


in vino veritas

by sanzuh



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunk Jon Snow, F/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29221590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanzuh/pseuds/sanzuh
Summary: "Gods," he almost moans, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to look at her. "Don't do that.""Do what? I'm serious, Jon.""Jeans on?" he asks, and there is that pout again. He bends down and manages to come back up with a new bottle of wine. "Orrrr, you could take that dress off, and we could drink wine together," he suggests with that same sloppy grin from earlier.I used to bedirewolfjon
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 133





	in vino veritas

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt.

Sansa freezes mid-step as she enters the living room of her and Jon's shared apartment. Slowly, she turns to put her bag down on a chair and hang her jacket over the back of it. She takes a deep breath and faces the sofa again. 

Jon texted her during the day that he had been fired because of company reorganizations, so she wasn't sure what to expect when she came home, but it was not this. She stares at Jon, who doesn't seem to have noticed her yet. He's never struck her as the wallowing type, but currently he looks positively hammered, and he is still drinking from an almost empty bottle of wine, wearing no other clothes than his boxers. It's an extremely distracting sight. 

Jon _has_ noticed her now, and he offers her a slow, but extremely wide grin. "San-zuh," he slurs.

Sansa walks over, stepping over Jon's jeans to sink down next to him on the couch and grabs the bottle of wine from his hand, taking a long swig from it.

"Do we need more wine?" Jon asks her.

"No," she tells him, cradling the bottle to her chest. " _I_ need more wine. You need to put your jeans back on!"

He pouts and lets his head drop to her shoulder, making her entirely too aware of his warm, almost naked body against hers. "But life is so freeing without them," he complains.

She gives him a light shove. "Jeans. On. Now."

"Gods," he almost moans, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to look at her. "Don't do that."

"Do what? I'm serious, Jon."

"Jeans on?" he asks, and there is that pout again. He bends down and manages to come back up with a new bottle of wine. "Orrrr, you could take that dress off, and we could drink wine together," he suggests with that same sloppy grin from earlier.

Sansa can feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but apparently Jon hasn't finished his train of thought yet. 

"And then I could eat you out for half an hour and after that we can have some more wine."

She's completely speechless now, and she turns away from him, letting her hair fall over her face to hide it from him. 

Not expecting it, she flinches when his hand brushes her hair back to tuck it behind her ear. "Hey, it's alright," he purrs. "What d'you say, sweetheart? Sound like a plan?"

 _Seven Hells,_ she wants to believe him, but there's no way she's going to go along with his _plan_ when he's drunk off his ass. "No, you know what sounds like a plan? You give me that bottle, drink two glasses of water and then it's off to bed with you!"

He takes a deep breath and his teeth graze his bottom lip. "Gods, you're so hot when you tell me what to do," he groans. "I love you, and I want you so much."

She's had several daydreams about hearing those words from his lips, but she decides to ignore them until he's able to repeat them when he's sober again. 

* * *

Jon wakes up slowly, head pounding and mouth parched, but apart from that, he's delightfully comfortable. He pulls the soft, warm body in his arms closer to his chest and buries his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of watermelon. 

Opening his eyes and blinking hurts, but he needs it to get some clarity. He only sees a mass of dark red hair, and his confusion grows.

He has no desire to let her go, but he knows he'll have to, preferably before she wakes up, but as soon as he shifts back, she snuggles closer, pressing her back flush to his chest.

He doesn't want this moment to end, but he'd also like to know how the fuck he's ended up in Sansa's bed. He can tell it is hers. It's warmer and softer than his and is permeated by all the sweet scents that are so Sansa. 

Suddenly her breathing changes and she starts turning around in his arms until she's facing him. Her hair is a mess, her eyes barely open and her face soft and rosy with sleep. Her attempt at a smile morphs into a wide yawn, which she tries to hide behind a hand. She has never looked lovelier.

"How's your head?" she asks him, voice thick and nasal.

"Horrible," he answers, his own voice harsh.

In any other case, he would think her answering laugh a delight, but now it's a vicious attack on his pounding head.

"Sansa? What?" he tries. "How... Did we...?"

She blinks, a crease appearing between her eyebrows, but then her cheeks flush a deep red. "I hope you'd remember if we had," she says in a voice so low he almost misses her answer. 

"Me too," he chuckles. "But how did I end up in your bed?"

"I kept trying to convince you to go and sleep in your own bed, but you wouldn't have it."

He doesn't recall any of that, but he believes she's telling the truth. 

"Do you remember everything you said?" she asks, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. 

"I do," he confesses. It's all coming back to him now. 

"Did you mean it? All of it?" Her voice sounds so small, and she isn't meeting his eyes. 

_Don't be a coward now, Snow._ He lifts her chin with two fingers, making sure she's looking at him, and he holds her gaze. "Yes, all of it."

Her face lights up with a radiant smile and she leans in, but then her nose scrunches up. 

"I, um, I think you need to take a shower and brush your teeth first," she mumbles.

"And maybe coffee and breakfast, too."

She hums in agreement. "But after that I'm more than willing to take you up on your offer from last night. Or, at least part of it," she adds. "It's too early for wine."

He groans. He's going to stay away from wine and other booze for a while, but that's not what he should be focusing on right now. "Not for the other part of the plan?" he asks her, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

She arches an eyebrow and wets her lips. "Not if you're up for it."


End file.
